A Most Unusual Meeting
by MiscellaneousSoup
Summary: Everyone's favorite comic relief characters meet for a drink in the Comic Relief Bar! This one-shot contains copious amounts of Zoidberg, Waspinator, and humor!


**A/N: I had this idea and I decided to write about it. Sleep? WHO NEEDS IT?! ...I do. What am I doing with my life? Read and review, if you please. Have an excellent day!**

**A MiscellaneousSoup Production:**

"A Most Unusual Meeting"

_At the Comic Relief Bar…_

"Ah, the Comic Relief Bar, a place where sidekicks, butt monkeys, designated monkeys, and cosmic playthings could sit back and let it all hang out. No getting insulted at every turn, no slapstick violence or pratfalls, and no egotistical heroes forcing you to get their coffee. For the adults, there was a steady stream of liquor, provided you had the necessary funds, and the younger chaps received chocolate milk. Just walk right in and grab yourself a seat. It's been a long day and you deserve a rest. Come to the Comic Relief Bar today. We'll treat you one."

Zoidberg eagerly sped to the restaurant, 'WOOP!'ing all the way. He shoved open the door, accidentally whacking Charlie Brown in the face. A waiter helped the poor boy out the door and handed Zoidberg a menu.

"Hello, sir. Would you prefer to sit with a companion or be on your own?"

Zoidberg's eyes widened. "Sir? No one's ever called me sir before! I'll sit with another person, thank you very much!"

The waiter nodded and led him to a separate table. "I trust you will find this seat comfortable. Press the button if you need anything, such as a claw sharpener, fresh fish, or a motivational poster. Your companion should be arriving shortly."

Zoidberg fidgeted in his seat, claws wriggling. "How exciting! Perhaps it'll be a pretty woman, maybe."

A large, black-and-yellow robotic wasp buzzed up. "Awww! Why does universe hate Waspinator? Waspinator thought you would be a robot lady!"

Zoidberg shrugged. "Eh, I'm just an alien. So, want to talk?"

Waspinator lowered himself onto the seat. "Why not? If Waspinator go back to his team, they'll just blast Waspinator to pieces."

Zoidberg nodded. "Ah, yes. I've been there, my friend. They're always laughing me and calling me crazy or stupid. I never get any respect!"

Waspinator drank some of the complementary engine grease. "Me neither. You know what?"

Zoidberg shook his head, tentacles flying. "No, what? Just a second. Waiter! I'd like some beer for me and my- hic! friend...The good stuff!"

Waspinator gulped down another cup of the grease. "Lasers! Bombs! Explosions! Boom- Waspinator goes all to pieces! Not just a figure of speech! It'zzzzz dezzzzpicable! Salvaging is a job for lozzzerzzzz! You?"

Zoidberg gratefully accepted the proffered beer. "I'm a doctor. Even with that, they still mock me. So I cut off one of my friend's arms in a duel to the death! So what? He stole my girlfriend! So what if I denied Earth the secret to eternal youth? So what if I was nearly killed for eating the American flag? Bah! I get no respect."

Waspinator curiously slurped down the beer. "Thizzz izzzz very good. Waspinator likes it! ANOTHER!" He knocked it to the ground, causing the Ice King, Sokka, and the Toiletnator to glare at him.

Zoidberg drank more of the beer. "Ah, that's the stuff. I'm feeling better already. I almost don't mind having to sleep in a stinky, rusty, godforsaken dumpster!"

Waspinator patted him. "You have it lucky! Teammates force Waspinator to sleep in the worst places! Jerks!"

"Well, at least you seem to be good at your job." Zoidberg said. "I've accidentally killed at least seven of my patients over the last few days."

"Good? Pheh! Listen, crab-face, Waspinator TRY to be good at job, but Predacons only let Waspinator salvage for scraps. Scraps, darn it!"

Zoidberg peered into his half-empty bottle. "Waiter! A little more of this, if you please. Excellent, excellent."

Waspinator started to buzz. "Are you even lizzzztening to Waspinator? Hello?"

Zoidberg drank some more beer. "Calm down, bee. I'm having more drinks."

Waspinator pointed at a laser at Zoidberg. "Take that back, you ignorant goldfish!"

Zoidberg crushed the bottle with one of his claws. "Who are you calling a goldfish?" A crest appeared on the top of his head and he grabbed a sharp-looking knife from the table.

He frantically tried to stab Waspinator, even as the bot ineffectually attempted to flash-fry him.

Angrily, the waiter ran up. "Hey, HEY! STOP!" The two paused in mid-attack. Zoidberg was biting Waspinator's laser. He separated the two and whacked Zoidberg over the head. "Read the sign, moron! NO FIGHTING!"

Zoidberg rubbed his crest and groaned. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Waspinator. Friends?"

Waspinator stopped buzzing. "Sure. Crab-face is Waspinator's friend.

Zoidberg clapped his claws. "Hooray! More drinks, waiter!"

The waiter ambled over. "Hey, isn't your buddy a robot?"

Waspinator nodded. "Waspinator can zzzzpeak for himzzzzelf. The answer is yes."

The waiter backed away. "Dude, you're a robot. Shouldn't you be malfunctioning?"

Waspinator looked down. Sparks were flying and the seat was steaming. "Oh, poop."

Zoidberg quickly grabbed some beer and food from the other tables. "Well, it was an honor to meet you! See you later, bud-" WHAM!

Waspinator exploded with the force of a nuclear bomb, sending the patrons flying. Nearby, Zoidberg sat in some wreckage, Waspinator's head stuck on his left claw.

Paste Pot Pete ran toward them. "Hey, jerk! I had stock owned in that restaurant! You're gonna pay!" He cocked his paste gun at the two and grinning.

Zoidberg quivered. "Why universe hate Zoidberg?"

Waspinator tried to detach himself and hop away. "Awww…"

SPLAT.

**THE END**


End file.
